Diary of a Cerberus Agent: The Madness Within
by Tillian
Summary: Recording entries of Lieutenant Edward Shankman, a Cerberus Agent who seem to have the greatest misfourtune in Citadel Space.
1. Recording Session: One

**Diary of a Cerberus Agent**

**Recording Session One**

**Maroon Sea Crisis  
**

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_Diary recordings of a Cerberus Agent, Lieutenant Edward Shankman, who left the Alliance Military in hopes that he'll get a decent amount of credits for an early retirement. Currently he's guarding a newly made facility around the Maroon Sea cluster._

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**21st February 2183**  
Today is just another day inside some lousy shack that we have to build up from scratch as the high end officers of the Cerberus HQ are too cheap to give the basic equipment that we need to build a homemade science lab. Gets even better, they demanded we should quicken our production of the structure before next week, as they were "urgently" need to send these samples ASAP.

Anyways we're almost done building this shack. Not the most homely place to sleep but at least the lab has the basic necessities we need to make it homely… like toilets. This is the good thing, considering in my experience working with the Alliance Military before joining with Cerberus, which is darn awful. There are certain frigates that didn't have a good facility of restrooms. Back then I was serving under the _SSV Troy_. Not a bad ship but the people under her wing are full of idiots, especially Captain Seth Meyer. I'm going to say this once about him: what… an… asshole.

Back to my short story of my life. At first I thought there were no toilets on the damn frigate, much to my disgust. After one complaint and a good senseless beating over my skull from my former commanding officer, I've found the toilets… Well it's small and hidden but it's better than… never mind I'm getting sidetracked here.

From the looks of the progression of the building, I guess we'll be done within three days. By then I hope we'll be getting a big fat paycheck along with these 'samples' that the Cerberus HQ were eager hand it over to us.

Well! Morning Tea break is over. I guess it's time for me to do my usual patrol around the area… I've highly doubt anyone would want to attack us since our building looked more like a rundown junkie shed than an actual professional test lab.

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**22nd February 2183**  
Bloody hell! We're supposed to be professional Black Ops agents, not whiny little bratty teens from high school!

Today, two of our operators are arguing over the matter with a break in. Long story cut short, someone hacked into her locker and left an insinuating message for her. She then rushed over to that other operator and started a catfight between them. We have to cast stasis on the both of them to stop the fight. Best part is that none of her stuff is stolen, apart from adding a piece of paper that remarked something about her body weight to her personal property.

Women… I just don't understand them.

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**23th February 2183**  
Finally, the construction is completed!

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**25th February 2183**  
These batches of samples they brought in today are… rachni? What on earth? I know we're supposed to do experiments that made Dr. Frankenstein proud us but… rachni? How is that physically possible? I thought they were bit the dust by those angry fat krogans many years ago. Did Cerberus pull it out of their ass or what?

Anyways, they say this batch is stable but for some reason, I have a bad feeling about this…

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**1st March 2183**  
Damn it! I swear Cerberus should be paying more attention in recruiting their members into their brood! I've could have sworn that 2/3 of my crew didn't even pass the _Earth Certificate of Education_ Exam back at High School!

Things went bloody wrong today. Some idiot decided it would be fun start up a _Rachni Fight_ game by taking out those rachni workers and make them fight to the death. Like those grasshoppers from olden days waaay before we even have electricity. Unfortunately the bugs proves us once again that humanity are consistently stupid. One of them self-destructed where the crew gathered around in a circle before, killing them instantly, while the other managed to unlock every single rachni containment cells and now we're fighting off against these bugs.

F_(bleep)_*! We're so going to be screwed!

_*(Appologies for censoring within these classified intel files, but I'm sure Admiral Hackett is not "interested" in these vulgar language - Alliance Intelligence Agent no. 225)_

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**2nd March 2183**  
Thank God! We've barely made it out alive! We've managed to eliminated the rachni but unfortunately we've lost our make shift science facility by blowing up the whole damn thing.

The rachni were crawling everywhere in the building, so a handful of surviving crew (including me) rushed out of the building. We've lock down any sort of opening that those pesky bugs might be able to crawl out before we've activated the emergency destruction sequence, hoping we could kill them off before they are going to have our blood. On one hand, the plan worked as there's nothing left from the exploding building that is bigger than a elcor's right nut… but on the other hand Cerberus is not going to be pleased with the loss of the samples and the facility itself.

Great. This will be a fun thing to report. So where will we start? "Yesterday, the crisis situation began when my men decided to play a game of _Rachni Fight_…"


	2. Recording Session: Two

**Diary of a Cerberus Agent**

**Recording Session Two**

**Massages and Trout Slapping**

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**

_Lieutenant Edward Shankman, the grunt agent of Cerberus, he travelled to Elysium where he meets up with one of the ringleaders of the 'minor' project._

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**5th March 2183**  
After incident back in the Marron Sea cluster, I was summoned back to the frontman of the project, to 'discuss' in greater detail about my report about the disaster...

You know, there's a sad irony when I've lump the word 'disaster' into the same sentence about my report. It's a disaster alright. A bunch of idiotic, bratty thugs; who had nothing better to do then letting out those cockroaches out of the cage, chewing their brains instantly as soon they got the chance. I supposed, now I know that they all fail biology back in high school from their lack of knowledge about HOW dangerous it is to let these bugs out. No wait, scratched that. They FAIL at everything!

If they have watched any of the old, B Grade Sci-fi movies that they made back in the 20th century, I think they will learn one simple thing from them. One simple philosophy that even a three year old human would quickly: BUGS ARE BAD!

Well the bed was made, there's no point in me dwelling on such pointless things. At least the incident did manage to wipe out most of the idiots, that's a plus for me.

So we're meeting up in Elysium, a human colony. I'm kind surprised that they want to setup a meeting in a bumpkin colony instead going back to the HQ. Then again, that's understandable due to the fear of having some bloody perverted thug exposing us to the Citadel authorities due to... well subscribing "Penthouse" magazine straight from the turian mailing services.

Well it's five clicks away to the Elysian landing dock. I don't like human colonies due to the fear of being run over by those psychotic batarians who probably played "Manhunt: The human edition" too much but they reassure us it's safe due to their fear of being chased around by a girl with a big gun. Yes, you heard me correct. Those raiders failed to wipe out this colony because of 'this' girl... what a bunch of sissies.

Food calls. Time for a snack.

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**6th March 2183**  
Well it could be worse. At least Elysium is does look like the pictures on those holiday brochures.

What perplexed me the most, is that there a lot of aliens wandering around here despite the fact it's a human colony. Turians, elcors, salarians and... asari.

Well it's my day off. I think I should go to some asari massage pallor. I could do some nice, relaxing massage after that assignment in the Maroon Sea Cluster.

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**7th March 2183**  
Think I felt something more than just a gentle massage around the scalp...

**10:00am Elysian EST**  
Oh dear lord! I think I've contacted mind herpes from that asari bitch. Damn it! I've been violated by the brain and now I've got herpes in my brain cells! FU-

_*(Apologies once again, for cutting out this snippet but I'm pretty sure that the Admiral would prefer NOT listening these explicit details about the asari bodily functions. A tad too tasteless for his liking – Alliance Intelligence Agent no. 225)_

**3:00 pm**  
Sigh, turns out that it's just another headache not brain herpes. The good local doctor pointed me out that there's no such thing as 'mind herpes', much to my embarrassment. At least the doctor is considerate enough not to laugh at my face. Still there's the matter about being violated in the brain...

**4:00pm**  
Curses! I've should have read the fine print about their services! I should have known in the first place about their package offering, "Embracing Relaxation".

F_(bleep)*_! What I have done?

_*(Censored – Alliance Intelligence Agent no. 225)_

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**8th March 2183**  
The frontman has arrived. We're going to the Adonis Apartment to 'discuss' about my report.

Well here goes nothing.

**3:00pm**  
Well, things turn out to be quite bad as a varren turd.

The frontman was pissed off about it. Sadly they all pin the blame on me especially the fact that I've let my Commanding Officer die during that disaster. Yes, that's right. The same MAN who suggested start up a _Rachni Fight_, is in fact my CO.

After a million lights year where humanity began and despite we're living in a highly advance technological age, especially where humanity has reach to its glorious heights of intellectual achievement; I'm serving under a Commanding Officer who has an IQ of a Thresher Maw.

I can't decide if that's funny or sad.

**8:00pm**  
Well, looks like I'm being demoted by sending me off to a more... quieter post. They haven't specified the details to me until I've have boarded to the designated ship tomorrow morning.

Well here's the recording snippet of the meeting:

-

Frontman – So, we meet again Lt. Shankman.

Me – Yes sir! I've heard you've read my report about the disaster in the Maroon Sea Cluster.

Frontman – Yes indeed. I was unimpressed. Do you know how hard it is to acquire these specimens? You can't just waltz around, eliminating these samples!

Me- Well... uh, I've understand how hard it is to acquire rachni. I'm sorry, sir.

Frontman- Sorry? I'm going to abuse you until your brain bleeds, you dim witted, turian lover!

Me- Sir, I've already been violated in the brain by an asari.

Frontman- Good God! Well I'm going to assault your brains again, pansy boy! What do you think this is? Chora's Den? Right, I have enough of you!

-

Then I got biotically trout slapped in the face by him. (Literally, I'm dead serious.) Afterwards he ordered me to be posted in some nowhere uncharted world.

God, no wonder the Alliance wants nothing to do with Cerberus.


	3. Recording Session: Three

**Diary of a Cerberus Agent**

**Recording Session 3**

**Downtime Woes**

**-------**

_Lieutenant Edward Shawnkman, the Black Ops agent who is unlucky in love, decides to continue his records on his troubled 'romantic' life._

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**April 2nd 2183**

My apologies since I've last did a recording for you my dear omni-tool. A lot of things happened to the point I can't even bloody sit my ass down and drink my goddamn tea let alone chatting to you.

Recently while I was posted within the Artemis Tau Cluster, we have recruited a few more rookies into our team. Oh boy… apart from the typical dim-witted bumpkins from Mindoir, we have this woman within our ranks. Her name is Tara Ebony Dolice Vantria. Yes, I know omni-tool. An overly long name. A name so long that even a salarian would twist his tongue into sprain from pronouncing her name.

Get's even better, she proclaims herself that she's related to the Illusive Man. Our boss. Can you believe this crap sprouting from this bitch? I don't think so. If she was, she wouldn't be posted into this nowhere cluster where not even the bloody pirates would stop by for a piss.

Oh yeah, why did I call her a bitch, did you ask? Well it's simple, she just bitching and whining at everything that moves, literally. The other day, she just complained about her ration food "taste like crap". I've almost wanted to strangle her on the spot but… I have to act professionally otherwise this whole Black Ops would turn into a kindergarten for the homicidal freaks.

Oh… my… god… did she just started a cat fight with our Commanding Officer? I have to go and defuse this situation. Talk to later.

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**April 3rd 2183**

You know what sucks apart from a pissed off Commanding Officer who seems to be riding with the red tide? Staff Lieutenant Tara Ebony Dolice Vantria… bleh… I think I've just sprain my tongue on saying her name out loud… it hurts. I can't speak anymore. I'm going to cry in my bunk instead…

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**April 5th 2183**

Thanks to our Medic, my tongue is fine now. Let's catch up where I was supposed to be recording this log two days ago. Let's call her "Miss Doubtwood". As I was saying, the CO still couldn't get over with Miss Doubtwood. Speaking of that, no one can pronounce her name without some sort of injury to the tongue. I think one of operatives had a near experience when his tongue got… never mind I'm not going to go through that again. So instead we have many different names for her instead to keep it simple. My particular favourite that our CO just simply called her "Bitchface." Maybe that's why they started a catfight yesterday since she probably called her out loud…

Did you hear that? That's Miss Doubtwood's voice and she's must have found my hiding spot. I must flee. HELP!

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**April 6th 2183**

Ok, do you really want to know why I'm away from you for so long, omni-tool? It's because of her! Miss Doubtwood! On the first day when she got into our recon team she saw me. What did she do when she first saw me? She started… to follow me. Asking me to go out on off duty and she wanted me to bang her. Well of course like every other normal male, I was flattered and excited at the same time I'm going to be a man soon. Also who doesn't want to bang chicks? Well things went perfect until I've one night when we got into an S&M session. You know. Whips, leather_… (cut)**_

_(Hey! What's the meaning of this? I was tuning in for some juicy intel! – Alliance Intelligence Agent 225)*_

_(Juicy? You mean Peeping Tom, you dirty bastard! Commander Shepard will skin our hides if we keep this section intact – Lt. Kaidan Alenko)**_

_(Dirty bastard? Looks who's taking Mr. I-got-a-crush-on-the-CO. You've used to look up asari po… - Alliance Intelligence Agent 225)*_

_(What's going on in there? Are we're done the third recording part? Hackett wants this in by 12pm midnight – Cmd. Shepard)***_

_(Not yet! – AIA 225 and Lt. Alenko)*/**_

I'm no prude but I have my limits. She's a…

Oh crap! There she is again! Run!

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**April 7th 2183**

So… An axe crazy, outgrown lolita chick seem to be on my tail for bloody ages! What I'm supposed to do now? To make things even worse, I have to hear her yapping all day while watching this patch of flatlands.

I mean seriously, why we are sitting here and wasting our time watching this spot? It's more boring than watching the paint dry in some hannar colony. They cited this is a very important project but what is the objective? To watch out for a tumbleweed? This sucks.

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**April 8th 2183**

Things are getting heated… the hostile tension between our CO and her is getting to the point that they going to pull out a Mexican standoff… literally.

Either way, if they both die, guess it's a win, win situation for me. Booyeah!

**5:07 pm Skyllian Verge Standard time**

Bah! Being a silver tongue, our CO owned her big time with a couple of giant, sophisticated words before she ended her sentences with the f word. The next moment Miss Doubtwood runs off crying like a big sissy. I'd give the CO for being so good at conversations.

Now, I'm going to say this once. Since it's the only opportunity I can say this loud and clear…

Dial WHINE-ONE-ONE for the Whaaambulance Starship!

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**April 9th 2183**

This morning we heard a loud piercing girly scream. It woke us up. Damn… doesn't it feel like we're in some horror B-grade movie. You know, like _Starless II: The wrath of the Thresher Maw_?

Guess it's time to 'investigate' this noise…

**2:00pm**

So… God is in a good mood today I suppose.

We investigated the noise. It turns out that Miss Doubtwood was still pissy from last night, so she wandered off to the flatlands patch…

Then this GIANTIC thresher maw pops out of nowhere and became breakfast for that angry space worm.

Now all that it's left of her is her hardsuit helmet and a pair of black gothic, lacy lingerie… Yuck, she wore this crap?

I know I should be down in the dumps because I have to write a report on why one of our own walked into the no go zone and how did she get killed, but for now I'm going to celebrate this with some of the finest Cerberus Moonshine that was produce for the underdog back ops!

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**April 10th 2183**

How did the report go? Well going really well then I've expected since the Illusive Man looked very pleased about this. I suppose adding the words like "thresher maw", "experiment" and "successful" helped a bit about her death.

As the result of this I guess it's time for us to head back to the Citadel and have a good time in the wards, once we get picked up by some unassuming Alliance rescue team since our Frigate was in a bad shape due to the thresher maw incident.

**10:00am**

Yes! There's our men… wait a minute someone placed the bogus distress beacon at the flatlands patch.

Oh my god! DON'T GO THERE!

**10:17am**

Great, which idiot placed that beacon there? Whoever that is, you f_(bleep)*/**_ idiot. You blew our chances to get out of this hellhole!

_(Censored – AIA 225 and Lt. Alenko)*/**_

**11:30am**

Well at least their Frigate is still intact. So we might as well nick this starship off and get a new paint job at the Cerberus HQ. I'm pretty sure the Alliance is dumb enough not to recognise their Starship as their own.


End file.
